


Bernie & Sylvain vs The World

by Feroxai



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bernadetta's Inner Demons, Comedy, Ensemble Cast, Fire Emblem Awakening and Fates Cameos, Gen, Pre-Slash Bernadetta/Leonie, background sylvix, eSports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29035776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feroxai/pseuds/Feroxai
Summary: Bernie’s tired. Bernie’s hungry. Bernie has dragged herself across the country to attend a major Crest of Flames 3 LAN with her team, who she’s never seen in person before.Bernie’s in over her head, surrounded by ever-smiling snipers, players with grudges against her teammates, and her own all-consuming self-doubts.But Bernie has her team, and they need her now more than ever. With the second competitive season of the year approaching, this is their last chance to show that they can stand on the Division 1 stage with the top teams in the league. Will they prove that they’re worthy? Or will they choke from the irl pressure?Or join Bernie, Sylvain, Ferdinand and Dorothea on their journey to be the very best (like no one ever was).Updates fortnightly on Sundays!
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault & Bernadetta von Varley, Ferdinand von Aegir & Bernadetta von Varley, Sylvain Jose Gautier & Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 41
Kudos: 70
Collections: The Three Houses AU Bang





	1. Chapter 1

[Posted 3 hours ago]

 **@gothamtittysirens** Me and the girls getting lit tonight 🔥 🔥 🔥

**@sweettoothgauis** Oi  
**@gothamtittysirens** mhmm i guess you can come too 😘

* * *

A year ago if anyone had told her she’d be here, halfway across the country and stuffed inside a bus full of sweaty gamers and confused-looking academia, well, she wouldn’t have laughed in their face (that’d be awfully rude), but she would have definitely thought that person was out of their mind.

She grips the front of the seat in front of her, steadying herself as the bus comes to a sudden stop. It doesn’t stop her from flying forward a little. The man squeezed in next to her glances at her with more than just curiosity. Does he know her? That wasn’t possible—she was hours away from home. She curls into herself a little, hoping her own skinny shoulders would shield her from his interest and turns her face towards the window to escape his notice.

“Hmm,” he says. His voice is deep, dark and washes over her like oil on water. Come to think of it, he does look a little familiar, and she’s definitely heard his voice before, somewhere…

“Be careful,” he says. “The roads here are bumpy.”

“Ah-hh,” she stammers. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he tells her, and she supposes she’s lucky he’s a person of few words just like her.

They ride the bus for the next few stops and Bernie prays that he doesn’t get off at the same stop as her. She’s sure he’s laughing silently at her inability to sit down properly—he keeps glancing at her judgmentally whenever a bump on the road makes her jerk like an awkward duckling. Goddess, she was _so_ hopeless. She looks at Mr Hedgehog, sitting on her bag in all of his plushie-keychain glory and thinks _Mr Hedgehog, we’re really in for it now._

There’s only one stop next—Garreg Mach University. Great. It’s probably not the worst case if the scary man does get off at the same stop as her—he looks like a strict tutor, or maybe a maniacal lab tech. With black slacks and a crisp dark button-up shirt like that, there’s no way he’d be going to the LAN, right?

The bus rolls up to the university, queuing up in the little bus bays. Considering how there’s no train line nearby, it's a little ridiculous that they don’t have longer bus bays and more bus lanes. There's a sort of feral energy that fills the air as they wait to disembark—a few LAN attendees with conspicuous lanyards are already standing up and clogging up the hallway.

Since they’re sitting at the back of the bus, Bernie and her seatmate have to wait for everyone to move before they can stand. Which means that when Bernie does stand up and trips over the weird step between the seats and the hallway, there’s no one to catch her except for the scary man. He grasps at her elbow and steadies her while she swallows down a yelp.

She almost immediately tears herself away and takes a couple of steps back. She knows she must look ridiculous, like an affronted maiden or a shocked deer.

“I did say to be careful,” he says, and then chuckles menacingly. It should have been funny (who chuckles like a discount Disney villain??) but the man does manage to pull it off, so it’s just mildly terrifying instead.

There’s not much Bernie wants to do more besides scream and run away but well, she’s trying this manners thing out, so she stands her ground and stammers out a, “Th-hanks for the assist.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Don’t force yourself. It wasn’t a problem.”

He quickly bends down and picks up a piece of paper—it's her ticket, which she printed out in case her phone died on the way to the LAN. It must’ve fallen out of her bag because she hadn’t zipped it up properly. Goddess, she wants to crawl into a hole right now.

He hands it back to her. “Well. I guess I’ll see you at the LAN.”

* * *

[Posted 14 hours ago]

 **@theathea** Just landed in Garreg Mach with @IAmFerdinand for @WhiteCloudsLAN. Can’t wait to see the rest of my loser team 💖

* * *

Cautious is her middle name. Bernie is the kind of person who plays strategy games, games that have long time phases, games where you can take a breath and reevaluate what you’re going to do. Crest of Flames 3 is not like those kinds of games.

The game trailers caught her attention; colourful and action-packed. She has the attention span of a psychedelic goldfish. If something has cute animation, flashy graphics and good gameplay, she’s probably going to buy it.

But the cutesy, fantasy-driven world of Crest of Flames 3 belied a steep difficulty curve. She sucked at first; she had never played anything with a moving camera before. A fast-paced, third-person shooter felt beyond her abilities but something in her refused to give up.

It took months for her to be comfortable with the controls. By that time, she had cycled through all of the player roles to find The One. There are four main roles in the Crest of Flames 3, but none of them are official classes; they're just casual boxes the community have sorted themselves into.

Maybe it's a mark of her personality that the role that she had landed on was the most distant, the most strategic, the most cautious. She is the anchor of the team, the one on the back lines. Her job is to stay alive. As the backbone, she's meant to snipe any enemies who give her team a hard time, and build her them a path back into the game if they happen to fall.

But sometimes she doesn't feel very reliable at all. She dies a lot. She misses shots. She lets people sneak past her blind spots.

Sometimes, she wonders why her team puts up with her at all.

* * *

[Posted 5 mins ago]

 **@sly+vain** Sun’s out, guns out

 **@nineknives** Put on a fucking shirt

 **@syl+vain** no ;)

 **@Berni3Bear** sorry if I got it wrong but we were supposed to meet for lunch right??

 **@sly+vain** THATS WHAT I FORGOT

 **@Berni3Bear** …………….

 **@sly+vain** im kidding! Woulndt miss it for the world. I’ll be there in 10

* * *

The Garreg Mach University campus is incredibly modern and unmistakably lavish, as expected of the country’s most exclusive university. Bernie looks in wonder at some of the more...unique buildings that dot the landscape. There are one or two mirror-like blocks, but also an unmistakably paper bag-like building. Abstract architecture sure is something else.

No one else seems to be gawking at the eye-catching buildings.

The hustle and bustle sweep her up—the crowd seems to be moving in the westward direction, which matches up to the location of the venue she had scrutinised on Moogle Maps for two hours the day before.

She had foolishly hoped that there would be fewer students around on the Friday of a long weekend; why did people like going out so much? Why couldn't they just enjoy some nice quiet alone time at home?

In truth, the spectacle of White Clouds, the country’s biggest LAN still hasn’t properly registered for her.

She had gone to smaller meet-ups before. Those were terrifying, mostly because she didn't know anyone there and everyone else knew each other. Awkward. White Clouds is infinitely worse; people are lining up and chatting with each other and roaming around in packs, like wolves. They take up whole pathways—walking next to them makes her feel like a cyclist squeezed between laneways full of semi-trailers.

She had miscalculated. Forget about Crest of Flames 3, the White Clouds also hosts tournaments for other big competitive games like Battle Bash Brothers, Tapamon and Undersee. When she tries to walk forward, she feels like she's looking out into a sea of sweaty gamer bros and e-girls.

She manages to shoulder her way through the crowd and into a smaller alleyway, wedged between a forlorn auditorium and a dinghy storage building.   
  
She's out of the fire now, but her stomach feels off. She feels bubbly and nauseous and full of apprehension, teetering on the knife-thin edge of dizzy and dazed.

She's not hungry anymore.

But she has to go to their team lunch. Her team wouldn’t give her a hard time if she ditches them but it’s not like skipping out would make her feel better. She's so far away from her hotel, and foreign universities are always hard to navigate. You need a key card to get into some buildings. How would she find a nice, cozy space to realign her thoughts? She can’t go into the LAN venue by herself. She would _actually_ die.

Wasn't it silly that she flew halfway across the country to see her friends only to consider avoiding them? Wasn't that pathetic?

A jaunty tune starts ringing, startling her. It's a discord call from their LAN group DM, but Thea is the only one currently in the call. Biting her lip, Bernie presses ‘accept’. She can't leave her hanging.

"Helloooooo?" drawls a familiar voice.

"...Thea? Why are you calling on Discord?"

"Sylvie's not answering DMs, and I never got his number. I can't find the restaurant—"

"He did share the Moogle pin."

"Babe, you know I have no idea how to use those."

"Where are you right now?"

"Bus Stop D on Gideon Parade."

That was by the bus stop Bernie had gotten off at before she had gotten swept away by the crowds. It wouldn't be hard to retrace her steps. She feels grounded, somehow, and a little less alone. She's got the voice of a goddess in her ear, after all.

"Stay there," she says. "I'll come and get you."

"Bernie, you're a lifesaver!"

Thea is the epitome of glamorous, the kind of person who makes your hands feel clammy. Bernie's lost count of the number of guys and girls who've complimented her on her voice during pick-up games and scrims—the sheer magnetism of it pulls in hundreds of viewers on her weekly twitch streams. Before Bernie knew Thea, she thought she was terrifying. Now that she does know her she still finds her terrifying—but also kind and dependable.

Bernie has known Thea for almost a year now; she knows what Thea looks like, and is fully prepared for flawless make-up, perfectly-coordinated outfits and the general air of a Popular Girl, the likes of whom Bernie had avoided all through high school.

What she's not expecting is—well, she thought she'd be taller. Thea has always been a huge figure in Bernie’s head but she isn’t much taller than Bernie herself, if at all. Neither of them are wearing heels; Sylvain had advised them to wear comfortable shoes since they had long days ahead of them.

Bernie walks up to her and takes a deep breath. "Hey. It's um, me. Bernie."

Meeting a stranger who is also your best friend is the strangest thing. She's wanted to hug Thea through the screen before, but now that she's here, she's second-guessing herself. Would that be too much? Too friendly? Too sudden?

Thea takes the decision out of her hands. She smiles and places her hand on Bernie's arm. When Bernie doesn't tense up, she places her other hand on Bernie's other arm. "It's good to finally see you, Bernie."

"It really is," says Bernie, and she means it. She means it so much that she feels a burst of courage which pushes her forward to offer Thea a real hug. Thea clasps her back gently.

“You’re taller than I expected. Cuter too,” Thea says with a wink.

“Oh goddess, please don’t start,” says Bernie. She hides her face in her hands and blushes to high heaven. The only thing worse than a Mean Girl was a Nice Girl—they would use any small excuse to give out compliments, and it was actually the worst. That’s such a cute outfit, did you get a haircut; it’s a great look on you, and are those new earrings, where did you get them? Compliments are worse than insults because you have to play nice and accept them, or else people think you’re being falsely modest or are stuck up and think you’re better than them.

But how are you supposed to accept compliments when you don’t think you deserve them?

Bernie’s sure that the cloudiness of her thoughts is showing on her face because Thea’s looking at her in badly-hidden concern.

“It’s pretty crowded, huh?” asks Thea. “Worse than the Crimson Flower LAN. But I guess it makes sense since that's just for Crest of Flames 3 players.”

Bernie nods.

Thea smiles. Gah, it’s bright. “Well, didn’t you offer to be my Lady Knight in shining armour? Save me from Moogle Maps.”

They make their way to the Moogle location Sylvain had beamed to them—at least it was off-campus, away from the crowds. In her experience, campus food wasn’t so bad; just a bit basic and bland. Sylvain had hyped up his local nooks for weeks in the team chat for weeks before the LAN.

This was one of the main parts of the trip she had looked forward to; there weren’t many nice Japanese restaurants in her campus city; there was more South-Asian and Middle Eastern food, which, while absolutely delicious, wasn’t the same thing.

The frontage of the restaurant was lined with huge glass-windows; peeking in, she could see classic booths and a bar counter. The decor had an airy, cafe-like feel, with walls lined with indoor plants and fairy lights.

She opens the door, startling herself as the bell attached to it jingles and signals her arrival. There was a familiar mop of red hair by the bar counter—it wasn’t really her preferred spot to sit, but it’s not like the booths built-in against the glass windows were very private either.

She holds the door open for Thea.

“This is cute,” says Thea. That’s not a surprise; she says everything is cute.

“It’s nice,” says Bernie. She’s trying. “Not too crowded. Is uh, is that him?”

“It’s got to be,” she says. She gently links her arm with Bernie’s and saunters up to the bar. “Hey, Sylvie!”

Bernie tries not to dig her heels in—she even pastes on a smile. Sure it’s a little stiff, but it’s the thought that counts.

Sylvain stands up at her call. He’s tall and broad, with wide-set shoulders and a grin to match. She’s watched him stream before, and had assumed that his sunniness was a persona for the camera. He’s intimidatingly hot, just like Thea is, but he’s got a slightly more approachable air. Bernie would be intimidated if she didn’t know him, his 13-step skincare routine, and the way that he whines whenever she updates her fics late.

“Hey ladies,” he says, in a comically fake casanova voice.

Thea swats him on the shoulder. “Oh my god, stop it. You do realise we’re not halfway across the country now, right? We can make you stop if you’re going to be embarrassing.”

“I’m kidding, geez.”

“You need to work on your humour,” says Bernie, but she’s smiling a little. “So uh, what’s good here?”

“The shio butter corn ramen,” he says without hesitation.

“I guess I’ll get that,” says Bernie. She hasn’t eaten anything all day, and her nervousness has subsided a little.

“Look over the menu, Bernie, there might be something better,” says Thea. She glances at Sylvain. “Any word from Ferdie?”

“I thought he came in with you,” says Sylvain.

“I went for a walk after we helped set up the venue. Seriously, that paper building is something else. He said he wanted some boiling water or something.”

Bernie looked at her in confusion. “Why would he—”

“Tea,” Sylvain says.

“Ah.”

He shrugs. “It’s Ferdinand. Remember the time he almost missed a match because he wanted to get iced tea?”

“Never forget,” mutters Bernie.

“God, I’m hungry,” says Thea. Bernie pats her shoulder gently.

Ferdinand arrives ten minutes later in a flustered flurry. His hair has escaped its ties so he looks little unkempt. Ferdinand isn’t intimidating at all; he can’t be when he’s wearing a pink Hawaiian shirt over a yellow crew neck. It’s a great departure from the photos he’s shared of himself; prim and proper, properly dressed in sweater vests, cashmere jumpers and pressed slacks. He feels more approachable this way; softer, as if he’s let his guard down.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says. “I tried to find boiling water for my tea flask and got sidetracked.”

“Rude,” says Thea. “You've been keeping poor Bernie from her lunch.”

“I guess this confirms that Bernie’s your favourite,” says Sylvain.

“It’s not like there was any competition,” says Bernie. It bursts out before she can remember to feel shy. This feels familiar, like the late-night snark-offs they have at 3 AM.

Ferdinand sniffs. “Now _that_ ’ _s_ rude.”

Sylvain reaches over and pats him on the shoulder in a solemn _there there._

They order their food quickly, even though Ferdinand squawks at how little time they give him to peruse the menu.

The food is amazing—Bernie opts for the shio butter corn ramen which is a nice, hearty choice. The others are more adventurous, picking out Tantanmen, Black Garlic Tonkotsu ramen and the Chef’s Chashu Special. The broth is rich and the toppings are lovingly prepared—the marinated soft-boiled egg warms her to her toes. Sylvain ruffles her hair when she gives him her compliments on the venue.

When they’re close to finishing, Thea turns to them and says, “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“What kind of surprise?” asks Bernie, nervous.

Thea smiles. It’s a little scary. She pulls a piece of paper and a bunch of coloured pens out of her magical bottomless bag, lays it on the table, between Bernie and Ferdinand and smooths out the crinkles with her perfectly manicured hands.

Sylvain whistles. “What’s this?”

Her smile widens. “The tournament bracket.”

The bracket wasn’t supposed to be released yet. Bernie looks at Thea in doubt. “You didn’t steal it, did you?”

“What? No! We helped Seteth and Flayn set up the room this morning and I took one of the spare schedules.”

Ferdinand leans back into his chair as if putting as much distance as he could between himself and the illegal contraband. “Isn’t that against the rules?”

Dorathea gently shakes her head. “The tournament hasn’t started yet, but Seteth let people in to warm up already. Which means they’ve all got access to this schedule, so it’s not that unfair. We might as well try to scope out these teams while we’re out of their earshot. Sylvie? Ferdie? Got any intel?”

Sylvain is a Crest of Flames veteran; he dominated the Crest of Flames 3 scene with the perpetual second-best team in the league, the Blue Lions. According to Ferdinand, the team mysteriously split two seasons ago, and Sylvain had quietly retired until Bernie had bribed him to return with early-release chapters of her fic. While Ferdinand and Dorothea are more informed of recent happenings in the scene, Sylvain has an encyclopedic knowledge of the stats and traits of all established players and is a fount of strategic knowledge.

Ferdinand is even more of an enigma—he was the support-style player for the undisputed champions of the league, the only team with sponsors: The Black Eagles Taskforce until he quit a season ago and convinced Thea to make a new and totally unproven team with him. While Sylvain still regularly talks to and about his old teammates, Ferdinand doesn’t; he clams up whenever they’re bought up. Nothing else can shut him up as well.

Between the two of them and Gossip Queen Thea, their intel on Crest league players was possibly unsurpassed.

Ferdinand taps the name closest to theirs on the schedule and circles it with one of Thea’s sparkly gel pens. “I’m afraid I’ve never heard of the Gotham Titty Sirens.”

Sylvain freezes.

Bernie’s not the only who notices. Thea glances at him out of the corner of her eyes. “Oh? Sylvie, do you know ‘em?”

“Well, I’ve never played against them,” Sylvain says after a moment.

Thea taps her nails against the table. “But?”

“I might have a little history with them.”

...What’s that supposed to mean?

“Perhaps we should pull up their Twitter and take a peek of their roster,” Ferdinand suggests.

They pull up the @GothamTittySirens Twitter. It’s very purple. There are shirts with titty windows on their banner. Bernie doesn’t get it.

“I guess the girls are getting lit tonight. Let’s give them a reason to drown their sorrows,” says Thea, amused. She pulls out a paper from underneath the schedule and writes out the names. “On the roster is Queen Rose, Dreamer, Unmasker, Prokiller—yikes—and Sweet Tooth.”

Ferdinand hums in thought. “These names are a little familiar.”

Sylvain looks like he’s sweating a little, which is odd, given that the restaurant is air-conditioned.

“Queen Rose used to be on Team Noir right? That cutthroat sibling team,” Thea.

“Team Noir is Team No More,” says Sylvain.

“Oft. That was bad,” says Bernie, but he grins.

Ferdinand frowns. “Queen Rose, uh, Camilla—didn’t you go out with her? A little?”

Sylvain’s grin dies down. “I mean we hooked up a few times.”

That wasn’t surprising; Sylvain had a reputation for enjoying casual, fun encounters. She’s glad she’s not him though; it must be awkward to encounter an old hook-up during a competition.

Ferdinand squints at his phone. “This Dreamer, she was on Awakening Kids, right? Didn’t you—”

“It was a one-time thing,” says Sylvain, sounding more defensive.

Bernie decides to be kind and changes the subject. “I’ve never heard of Unmasker,” says Bernie. She taps on Unmasker’s profile. “Oh, they used to play comp Tapamon. Didn’t you play that, Sylvain?”

Sylvain’s brow furrows, and he looks more and more guilty.

“Oh my god. You _didn’t,_ did you?” Bernie asks, with glee.

“It was a blind date,” he says helplessly. “It didn’t even go well.”

Thea laughs. “Alright, we’ll let that one slide.”

Ferdinand ignores them and taps around on Twitter. “Sweet Tooth is one of the Shepherds, from the old Crest of Flames 2 scene. He might be dangerous if he’s that experienced. Sylvain, have you played against him?”

“A few games, here and there. Mostly casual stuff. The Blue Lions never formally entered the Crest of Flames 2 league, and Gaius’ team only played one season of Crest of Flames 3.”

“Gaius, huh? You sound familiar,” says Thea.

“He goes here and we have the same major. And uh, we might have dated for a month or two,” Sylvain admits.

“Wow,” says Thea. “Get it, Sylvie.”

Ferdinand frowns. “Is there anyone on this team you haven’t gotten with? Please tell me you didn’t hook up with this ProKiller person, she looks like she wants to stab someone.”

Sylvain doesn’t say anything and instead takes a chug of barley tea.

“Sylvain,” Ferdinand presses.

He sighs. “Once at a LAN afterparty, we played spin the bottle and got locked in a closet together.”

“And you made out?” Bernie asks, intrigued.

“No, not really. But we, like, wrestled a bit while we were in there. And I mean literal wrestling, she’s a violent little thing and kept getting annoyed at me because my knee was stuck in her back. But we were red and puffed out when we got out, so everyone thought that we had done something. She didn’t like that.”

“So this entire team is full of your exes, and another person who probably hates your guts?” asks Thea.

“That’s the gist of it.”

“I can’t believe you tried to glaze over this by saying you had a little history with them. They’re not going to play any dirty tricks on us, are they?” asks Bernie, worried.

“Seteth’s going to be watching. He’s one of the strictest admins in the league,” Thea assures them.

“Still, they’re going to try their best to take us and Sylvain down,” says Bernie. 

Sylvain smiles. “They’ll be doing that anyway. They’re respectable competitors. Sure, this is a little…messy, but it’s not going to change anything.”

That’s easy for him to say, but there was no way of knowing until they got there. Besides serious tricks and actually cheating, there’s more than one way for an opponent to get to you. Bernie’s sure that all-consuming awkwardness could affect anyone’s ability to play.

“If you know them, does that mean you know anything about their playstyles and teamwork?” asks Ferdinand.

Sylvain nods. “Queen Rose is the biggest threat. She’s the most experienced out of all of them, even Gauis. He hasn’t played comp for a couple of years, but Rose’s old team has only been disbanded for a season. She’s got a really heavy, aggressive style but she’s got the mobility and survivability to make up for it. She’s probably carrying their entire team if I’m going to be honest. I want to say that if we target her, we’ll have an easy time, but—”

“Someone experienced like that will be hard to bully,” says Bernie.

“Exactly.”

“What position does she play?” asks Bernie.

“She’s a flex. Switches between front and backline, so we’ll have a hard time trying to counter her. But no matter what position she plays, she values her mobility above all else—bringing a speed-affecting sub weapon and a special attack which helps displace the enemy would help us deal with her,” says Sylvain.

Dorothea writes out notes on the paper she pulls out. “What about the others?”

“Gauis plays on the front line. He likes fast, slayer-type weapons. He’s good, but he might be rusty.”

“We can’t count on that,” says Ferdinand. He’s always cautious. Bernie likes that about him; it was rare to find a teammate who could be dependable and clear-headed during a game.

Sylvain makes a thinking noise. “He’s not an independent player; the few times I’ve played casually with him, it was clear that he needed clear directions from a leader. If we can fluster Camilla and stop her calls from coming in, that’ll stop him in his tracks.”

There are two parts to a successful esports player; technical skills and mental fortitude. Knowing when to push the objective comes down to both of these aspects; you need to have the capability to read the flow of the games to find or create the perfect moment to strike, but you also need to be confident in your own judgement, and patient enough not to panic under pressure and strike too early. Being too aggressive and too passive are two sides of the same coin; panic.

It’s not uncommon to have a team leader who calls the shots during the game to ensure that their team isn’t too scattered. Doki Doki is a good team, but she’s not sure if they’d be where they were without Sylvain’s meticulous strategizing and calls.

Thea smiles— she’s probably having fun plotting the downfall of this poor team. “Sweet. And Dreamer?”

“Dangerous slayer. Same deal as Gauis on needing calls. But we shouldn’t get complacent. I can’t remember playing against ProKiller or Unmasker and the less we know about them, the more nasty surprises they’ll have for us.”

“Yuck,” says Bernie.

Thea jots down more notes. “So they’re a fast-paced team, with more emphasis on short-range and aggression. Bernie will be bringing a backline weapon either way, but we can capitalise on their lack of range by bringing two midline weapons.”

“You’ll have trouble with speed if you’re using a middleweight weapon,” reminds Sylvain. The size of their wand weapons determines their range, but it also determines their speed. “We should bring our normal range of comps—front, front, mid and back. But pick out special attacks which will displace the enemy. If we can scatter Camilla, that’ll give us an edge. It’s less of an all eggs in one basket deal too since those attacks can be helpful against any of their members.”

Ferdinand shakes his head. “Bringing only displacement special attacks means we won’t have anything to make our pushes with.”

He’s right; they only have one special attack each, too.

“I’ll take one pushing special,” says Sylvain. Bernie can see that Ferdie and Thea look a little uneasy at the idea. Their team is already naturally defensive because of their weapon preferences. If Sylvain is the only one with a special attack that could help them push the objective, that decreases their offensive power a lot.

“With only one pushing special, we’ll need to coordinate our pushes a lot more. Bernie, you might have to step it up with your calls. Displacement specials can still help us clear the way and push,” says Thea.

“I’ll try,” Bernie says. She grips the fabric of her skirt.

“We’ve dealt with more aggressive teams,” says Ferdinand. “You have my utmost confidence.”

“The main thing is that they’re going to try to scatter us with their aggressiveness. Don’t wander around alone. Safety in numbers,” says Sylvain.

Bernie snorts. “Right, we’ll try.”

Thea circles the next team on the list. “What about Mystic Malice? They’re the ones we’ll fight next, right?”

“That’s only if we beat the Gotham, ah, Sirens,” says Ferdinand. “And I’d rather not count our eggs before that hatch.”

“Also they’re sitting right behind us, so it might be awkward if they hear,” says Sylvain.

Bernie turns around as inconspicuously as she can. Sure enough, there’s a table of eye-catching youths in the booth by the window. There’s like, eight empty bowls on the table, and one of them seems to be sleeping with a book on his face. Wow, he’s even more of a bookworm than her!

The blond man currently slurping down what seems to be his fourth bowl of ramen pauses and jauntily waves her. Blushing, she immediately turns around.

“That’s them, huh?” asks Thea.

“They’re interesting, but honestly they won’t be as much of a threat as the Sirens. Let’s just take things one thing at a time,” says Sylvain. “Any questions?”

Ferdinand raises his hand. “Is there a good bubble tea store nearby?”

* * *

[Posted 15 minutes ago]

 **@horsegirl9000** nothing like getting parfait with your lovely teammates and token uncultured sword gremlin

 **@nineknives** im never getting dessert with you psychos again. I need to brush my teeth.

 **@misswitch** you really have NO taste felix

* * *

They head to a little shopping alleyway near the campus, a few minutes walk from the restaurant. From there, Sylvain herds them into a trending looking boba shop.

Ferdinand commiserates between the difference between Assam milk tea and Ceylon honey milk tea for at least 15 minutes; Thea picks out an aesthetic peach green tea with peach star jelly and ropes Sylvain into taking photos of her with the admittedly pretty drink.

Bernie picks out a toffee oolong drink and heads to the main street out of the crowded alleyway for some breathing room.

Once out on the open street, Bernie fumbles with her boba straw, trying to thrust it into the plastic. It’s slippery; her fingers aren’t made for this kind of fine mobility.

As she concentrates on this highly important task, she rocks back and forth on her heels and accidentally stumbles into a pedestrian.

The guy was walking with some force, causing her to lose her balance. She falls down and scrapes her knee a little—luckily, she’s wearing thick tights. She manages to keep a hold of her drink, but her straw drops from her fingers.

“Fuck, don’t stand in the middle of the path,” the guys says.

She doesn’t respond for a moment, stupefied. She looks up at a somewhat familiar face. She’s seen this man before on Sylvain’s streams, and occasionally on his Instagram posts. If memory serves her right, he’s Nineknives, the cutthroat slayer of Starry Midknights, and one of Sylvain’s old Blue Lions teammates. Bernie doesn’t know much about the people in the Crests league, but even she knows that Knive’s temper is legendary. He looks furious. His furrowed brow could rival mountains.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stand in your way. Please let me go!”

His frown softens infinitesimally. His tone becomes a little less harsh. “Do you uh, need a hand?”

“No! No, I’m fine,” she says. She scrambles up and cradles her drink. She needs a new straw. “I need to—I need to straw. Goodbye.”

She quickly makes a beeline for the bubble tea store, away from Knives. The further away you were from angry people, the better.

“Wait!” she hears him shout behind her. “Why are you running!?”


	2. Chapter 2

[Posted 1 hour ago]

 **@noxiousrazor** Looking forward to some entertaining Crest matches today. Last week’s seeding matches were a bit of a bore to watch. I hope I’m not too disappointed.

* * *

White Clouds is being hosted in GMU’s prime event location, the Mess Hall. Contrary to the name, the Mess Hall was a very sleek building, and roundly-shaped, unlike a traditional hall. There's a bar and restaurant attached to the downstairs area, with nice outdoor seating. The round building had a stage on the ground floor, perfect for college parties. Not that Bernie would know--she’s never been to one of those.

You could see the ground floor from the third floor, as the building was constructed with a space in the middle, allowing light from the skylights to trickle through to the bottom floor.

From the ceiling hung multiple huge monitors, allowing attendees to watch the ground floor games without leaving the upstairs rooms.

“They’re swapping out who gets to be on the ground stage every day,” says Sylvain, as they climb the stairs. “On Day 1, only Battle Bash Brothers will have hype matches, so they’ve got the floor today. They’ve got a crazy exhibition line-up for their 1v1s and 2v2s. Undersee team finals are tomorrow, so they’ll take over the stage.”

“Uh, what about Sunday?” asks Bernie.

“On Sunday, we’ll have our finals, so we’ll be moving down.”

“Oh,” said Bernie. There would be a lot of people on the ground floor. She winces at the loud cheering coming from below.

Sylvain smiles at her gently. She’s learnt not to trust that smile. “What? Nervous? Already anticipating our journey to the grand final?”

“Do you really think we can make it that far?” asks Bernie.

Thea, who had been walking in front of them with Ferdinand whips her head around. “Of course we will. Have some faith, Bernie!”

Unexpectedly, Ferdinand doesn’t back her up with his usual exuberance. “Even if we can’t win, we have to get close to it,” he says. “Otherwise, we’re not going to make it to Division 1.”

He hesitates as if he wants to say something else, but he just sighs and keeps walking ahead of them.

The White Clouds LAN is a major tournament and there’s a cash prize, but that isn’t why it’s so important. The next season is coming up—their team, the Doki Doki Heartbreakers, had played in only one previous season—they had come first in Division 2, but only because the team above them had been disqualified. They had played in multiple tournaments since then, and the team as a whole had but a lot of work into getting better. But due to a series of freak coincidences, they were unable to play in any of the online seeding tournaments that the League Administration were going to use to place teams into their Divisions.

Ferdinand had gotten seriously sick for two weeks at the beginning of the seeding month, and Sylvain had two weeks of fieldwork he’d only just returned from. This meant that there was no way for them to really prove that they deserved to be in Division 1, despite all of the hard work they’ve done.

But then they remembered White Clouds; it’s a tournament run by the league, and multiple high-level teams were flying in to play. It’s _technically_ going to count for seeding.

It’s their last chance. Bernie didn’t want to attend; LANs seemed like the embodiment of her worst nightmares; there would be crowds and dozens of strangers who would want to talk to her, she’d have to fly out and stay in an unfamiliar hotel room and worst of all, she’d have to play Crest of Flames 3 in front of people who would be judging her in real-time.

But after a few weeks of their cajoling, Bernie agreed to come. The real reason that Bernie is so nervous is because she knows how much this means to her team.

Thea has been trying to climb the ranks forever but has been held back by mediocre teammates and Crest league members who’ve given her a hard time for not falling in line with them.

After Ferdinand split from his old team, the Black Eagles Taskforce, he didn’t talk about them much. But Bernie wasn’t blind; she could see that he desperately wanted to prove that he could be just as good as them—no, _better_ than them.

As for Sylvain—he didn’t act like he cared if they won, but he was also the one who stayed up late analysing their gameplay, arranged practice matches with high-level teams and wrote out training plans and plays for them to work on. Sylvain seemed like the kind of person who liked finishing what he started, and she didn’t want him to have come out of gaming retirement for nothing.

As for Bernie—well, she just wants to play with her team. They’ve been so kind to her that she doesn’t want to let them down. Of course she wants to win, of course she wants to be a good teammate, of course she wants to—it doesn’t matter. She’s here for her team, not for herself.

The set of rooms that the Crest of Flames tournament is being held in are clamouring with people. There are a few screens on the walls to project the matches. The rooms where competitors were going to play the official matches are partially partitioned off from the crowd. Bernie was glad about that—she wasn’t sure how well she’d do in front of an audience. She already felt queasy about streaming less high-stakes matches—and that’s not even for an in-person audience.

Before lunch, Ferdinand and Thea had left their gear in one of the corners of the audience room to mark their territory. They comfortably sat down there. Sylvain seemed at home here—a few people seemed surprised to see him, as if forgetting his return. Maybe it was because he hadn’t returned to the Crest scene with a team they thought was a threat. A few people who seemed a bit familiar came over to him to talk. Notably, none of them are his famous exes.

As Sylvain converses, Bernie gets comfortable. They still have at least an hour until their first match, so she gets out her earphones and her Nintendo Switch. She watches the room as she does so. There aren’t too many faces she knows here. Most players didn’t really post real-life pictures of themselves, and she only followed her friends on social media anyway.

On the opposite corner of the room, she sees Nineknives, Sylvain’s friend (???) along with his team, presumably Horsegirl, Miss Witch and Mercury. They’re an interesting team dressed in a hodgepodge of styles: Knives looks like a Sasuke-cosplay reject, his light-haired teammate is wearing a very delicate and girly ensemble, the blonde looks like she’s ready to hop into a stable and the redhead is wearing an outfit that Bernie can only describe as “Tomboy-Lumberjack Chic.” With some relief, Bernie notes that Knives is deep in discussion with his team, and pays no attention to her.

In the middle of the room, talking to the League admin, Seteth, she spies a very familiar, slightly-creepy looking, dark-haired man. The man from the bus.

He spots her looking and raises an imperious eyebrow. Ack, she’s been caught. Blushing, she turns her head away and scuttles over to Thea, who’s looking at the tournament bracket. Thea’s mouthing words and doodling notes—no doubt planning how to tackle the next team.

Bernie tugs at her sleeves. “Thea, who’s the guy talking to Seteth? In the middle of the room.”

Thea looks up, and her eyes follow Bernie’s directions.

Bernie lets go of her sleeve. “Don’t be so obvious about looking. He’ll see.”

“He’s already looking at us,” says Thea, obliterating Bernie’s dignity.

“Please just put me out of my misery,” says Bernie.

Thea giggles. “That’s Hubert. I think his in-game name is Noxious Razor. He’s the vice-captain of Ferdie’s old team. His rival, if you believe what he says when he’s drunk.”

“The team he never talks about?”

Thea leans back in her chair. “That’s the one.”

“I ran to him on the bus. He was sorta nice, but like, also serioooously scary.”

“That man’s got a reputation,” says Thea grimly. “I’m not sure how much of it’s true, but he’s the kind of person who delights in mind games to get the results he wants. That, or he just enjoys intimidating people. I don’t really know him that well, and it’s awkward to spend time with any of the Black Eagles considering how Ferdie feels about them.”

“Do you think he’s bad news?” asks Bernie quietly.

“During a game? Of course. Bernie, you’re the best sniper I know in terms of speed and aim. But that man can analyse the flow of the game and his opponents in the blink of any eye, and never hesitates to use this to his advantage. But outside of the game, I’m not sure,” Thea admits. She drops her pens and twirls her hair against her fingers, as if deep in thought. “He never gave me a shit time when I was starting out, and he never creeped on me. Which I know is a low bar, but there’s a lot of banned players who didn’t meet it.”

“If you don’t think he’s that bad of a guy, then why does Ferdie seem to hate him so much?”

Thea shakes her head. “Ferdie’s a good player, friend and teammate. But he’s got a lot of pride. If I had to guess, it’s got something to do with that. It’s probably personal.”

* * *

[Posted 2 hours ago]

 **@mercury** looking forward to some exciting games today!!! Bring it on!!!!

 **@misswitch** leonie, save some energy for the matches

* * *

Maybe bubble tea wasn’t such a good idea. The large drinks were only 50 cents more than the regular...so in the name of thriftiness, she had upgraded.

Sure, the drink was good—toffee oolong tea had slightly mellow and bitter undertones which reminded her of coffee. A combination of tea and coffee was her ideal kind of drink—she had consumed it very quickly, unlike Thea and Sylvain who were still nursing their drinks.

But as a result, she really, _really_ needed to go to the bathroom.

Thea had given her directions to toilets and had even offered to go with her, but Bernie had turned her down. She didn’t need a babysitter.

The bathroom on the third floor was on the other side of the building. She walked as quickly as she could so we wouldn’t bump into anyone. The bathroom itself was modern and clean. The large mirrors meant she could adjust her hair a bit—she had combed it in the morning, but it would still flick up like bed hair throughout the day. The cons of shorter hair.

Beside her was a really, really pretty girl with red hair, split into pigtails. She looks familiar—as if Bernie has seen her picture recently. She’s applying a soft pink lipstick to her mouth, with precise, graceful fingers. Noticing Bernie’s eyes on her, she tilts her head somewhat arrogantly. “What are you looking at?”

“Oh—uh, I thought your hair looked nice,” says Bernie.”

The girl’s sharp features slightly soften at the compliment.

“Thanks,” she says, with the air of a girl who knows that she’s pretty. Bernie can understand why; she’s gorgeous. If Bernie had half of her confidence…

The toilet flushes, and the door swings open. A really tall, and almost intimidatingly beautiful woman strolls forward. Her hair falls in perfect lilac waves down her back and her face looks as delicate as a princess’s. Bernie notices that her shirt has a strategically located cutout on her chest, showing off her cleavage.

She’s even prettier than the models Bernie follows on Instagram… she looks totally out of place at a gaming LAN’s crappy little bathroom.

“Oh? Selena, did you make a new friend?” asks the intimidatingly beautiful woman.

“No! Of course not. She was just giving me a compliment, that’s all,” says Selena. “I’m not you, Camilla. I don’t make friends with everyone I talk to.”

Wait. Did she just say Camilla? As in Queen Rose? As in the Captain of the Gotham Titty Sirens, the team Bernie was going to play in twenty minutes?

“What a pity,” purrs Camilla. She turns to Bernie, who feels a bit like cornered prey. Camilla smiles at her—it’s a killer move which makes Bernie hear her heartbeat speed up. “You’re so darling. What game did you come here for, sweetheart?”

“Uh—Crest of Flames 3,” says Bernie.

Camilla’s eyes light up. “Oh, maybe we’ll play against you. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Oh, uh, maybe.”

Selena’s eyes narrow. “What team were you from? I’ve never seen you around.”

Bernie’s not sure if she should answer that.

Selena’s straight-up glaring at her now. “What? Cat got your tongue? Tch, typical.”

“I’m—uh, I’m from the D-doki Doki Heartbreakers,” says Bernie.

Camilla tilts her head. “Isn’t that Sylvain’s team?”

Selena crosses her arms. “It _is._ How on earth do you stand him?”

Bernie feels a flare of irritation. Alright, Sylvain was frivolous, and he was a flirt, and sure, sometimes he could be a little insensitive, but he was her _friend_. He was her _best friend_. She’s never had someone who was as supportive and understanding as he was.

She opens her mouth to defend him, but fear has seized her throat.

“He-he’s not that bad,” she stammers. “He’s a good teammate, and he’s, well, he’s always there for us. Just because you don’t get along with him doesn’t mean he’s a bad person!”

Camilla raises her eyebrows in what seems to be surprise. Selena just snorts and strides forward towards Bernie. She stops right in front of Bernie and clamps down two hands on Bernie’s shoulders and shakes her. “Hey. Wake up. That guy’s a sleaze. Blink twice if you need us to help you get away from him.”

Bernie tries to shake her off. “N-no! I don’t need—”

The bathroom door slams. “Oi, what’s going on here?” asks a new, authoritative voice.

Bernie turns towards the voice. It’s the Tomboy-Lumberjack redhead from Knive’s team. Though she’s not much taller than Bernie herself, she’s standing with a considerable amount of ‘I take no shit’ confidence.

Camilla steps forward and hauls Selena off of Bernie. She pats Bernie’s arm twice lightly as if trying to comfort her. “Just a misunderstanding, that’s all. Isn’t that right, poppet?”

“R-right,” says Bernie.

Camilla smiles, and it’s honestly a little frightening. “I just need to wash my hands, and we’ll be off.”

“Just don’t cause any trouble,” says Tomboy-Lumberjack. “Seteth and Jeralt have had enough on their hands without needing to keep an eye on any trouble makers.”

Selena looks like she wants to start trouble with Bernie’s hero, but Camilla shakes her head. “We’ll be on our best behaviour, right, Selena?”

Selena jerkily nods.

Tomboy-Lumberjack stands closer to Bernie, and watches as Camilla cleans her hands. Once she’s done, Camilla turns towards them and says, “I’ll see you in a bit, sweetheart. I look forward to our match.”

Selena sticks her tongue at them behind Camilla’s back as they leave.

Once they’re in the clear, Tomboy-Lumberjack steps closer to her. “Are you alright, mate?”

“I’m. I’m fine, really. I think they were just showing their concern for me, honestly. In a really weird way that involves insulting my teammates.”

“I’d be pissed if they talked shit about my team,” says Tomboy-Lumberjack. Bernie’s seen _a lot_ of people talk shit about Knive’s personality, but it’s true that they tend not to do so in the presence of his teammates.

“By the way, I’m Leonie. But my gamer tag is Mercury, if you’d like to cheer me on.”

“Oh, I’m Bernie Bear—or Bernie for short, I guess.”

Leonie grins at her. “Nice to formally meet you—listen, Felix said—”

The door slams open again. This time, it’s Thea standing in the doorway, slightly out of breath. “Bernie, what took you so long? The match starts in 10 minutes. We need to get ready.”

* * *

[Posted 4 hours ago]

 **@D &DAniCross **Good luck to both **@DokiDokiHeartbreakers** and **@StarryMidknights**. Dedue and I will be at **@WhiteCloudsLan** to cheer on our old teammates starting tomorrow!

* * *

Thea bundles Bernie up and practically drags her back to the tournament rooms. Whatever Leonie had to say would have to wait. Surely whatever embarrassing comment Knives wanted Leonie to tell her wasn’t that important.

She brings her equipment to the LAN monitors and adjusts the audio and her controls. She brings out her little victory omamori and then goes to pry her ultimate secret weapon, Mr Hedgehog off of her bag—wait. Where’s Mr Hedgehog???

Her ultimate lucky charm usually rests on her backpack, the perfect position to protect her from the bad vibes of the world. She only ever takes him off during important tournaments, where she rests him on her computer monitor. Mr Hedgehog has been with her since she was ten years old.

She’s never won anything without him.

How—

She chokes in a sob.

How was she going to play without him?

Sylvain immediately notices her distress. He stands up and then hovers next to her. His arms embrace her, and the immediate weight of him grounds her a little.

“Hey, hey. It’s alright. What happened?”

She shakes her head. “It’s nothing.”

“That sounds like a load of bull,” he says, and that startles a giggle-sob out of her. “If it’s upsetting you, it’s clearly not nothing. Please tell me? I want to help.”

On the other side of their small table, Thea and Ferdinand have stopped moving. It’s quiet.

“I lost my lucky charm,” she says.

They know her by now; they know she doesn’t mean the omamori.

“You lost Mr Hedgehog?” asks Ferdinand with dawning horror.

She nods.

“This isn’t good,” says Sylvain. “We’ll find him, I promise, but the match starts in five minutes—”

It’s a little bittersweet. She knows it’s normal to mock someone for being so upset about losing something so childish. She’s grateful, she realises, that her friends wouldn’t do that.

“Y-you don’t think I’m—” she takes a breath, and a sob comes out—“You don’t think I’m being silly?”

“Gamers are a pretty superstitious lot. And, well, we dragged you here. We should be doing everything we can to make you comfortable,” says Sylvain.

Thea’s made her way to their side of the table. She offers Bernie a tissue to dry her eyes and blow her nose.

Sylvain’s not saying anything, which is a bit odd, but suddenly, he puts his hands around his neck and undoes the clasp of his necklace.

Bernie hasn’t seen this necklace often; he doesn’t wear it in his social media posts or during his casual streams. She would remember it if he did; it’s a leather necklace with a delicate, finely-crafted pendant. The pendant is a replica of a Crest of Flames 3 longstaff; the primary weapon of a backline player, the kind that Bernie uses. She’s never seen something like that sold anywhere.

“Stand up,” he says.

She numbly obeys him. He carefully drapes the necklace on her.

“What—what are you doing?!”

“Relax. This is _my_ good luck charm. I only wear it during important tournaments. You know I’ve won a lot of those, right? My condition is good today, so I don’t need the extra luck. But I know you do. Just borrow it until we find Mr Hedgehog okay? We need you in top condition.”

Seteth calls Sylvain forward. He winks at her. “Duty calls.”

The Captains go up and shake hands before the match.

“I do hope you’ll give us a challenge, dearest,” says Camilla.

“Don’t worry, we will,” Sylvain promises.

These games aren’t as long as League matches, which are best 5 out of 9. These are best 3 out of 5—the first team to 3 wins take the match.

The first game’s mode is Mana Zones, a King of the Hill-style game. The aim of the game is to capture the outlined zone at the middle of the map by covering it with your team’s magic. If your team has the zone, your clock will start to countdown. If the enemy shoots enough of their magic onto the zone, it will stop your countdown. If they cover the majority of the zone with their magic, it becomes theirs, and their countdown will start. Exciting Mana Zone games are often like games of tug-a-war, but deadlier. Every time the zone changes ownership, the team that just lost the zone will receive a countdown penalty which they have to wait through before they start gaining points again. The closer your countdown is to zero before you lose the zone, the longer the penalty will be. The goal is to hold the zone for as long as possible—even if you can’t make the countdown go down to zero, you have to make it _hard_ for the other team to do the same.

Death in Crest of Flames 3 isn’t crippling, but was still important to avoid. Players respawn relatively quickly compared to most games—but in most modes, you could only gain points in the middle of the map, or near your enemy’s base. Furthermore, killing is not always about taking someone out of the game for a while, but more about moving them out of their advantageous position.

“Don’t forget,” says Sylvain. “We need to make sure that Camilla doesn’t get to settle in. You don’t need to kill her, just move her with your special and secondary weapons.”

The Gotham Titty Sirens bring out Camilla (Queen Rose), Selena (Dreamer), Unmasker, and Gaius (Sweet Tooth). They’re a very aggressive team. They constantly come forward and almost take Bernie by surprise a couple of times by sneaking up on her. She manages not to die, but because she’s constantly moving, she can’t support her team very well and doesn’t manage to kill Camilla even once.

Despite it all, the rest of her team manage to keep the zone for a while, and they get a decent number of points on the board. But in the end, they focus a bit too much on Camilla and waste their special attacks on her while her team takes the zone. After they’ve burnt all of their special attacks, she manages to kill them one by one. At this point, even Sylvain is a little frazzled. They stagger out of the base one by one and get slaughtered by the sirens, who manage to overtake their considerable lead.

“Sorry,” says Bernie. “I’ve got the most range. I should have been able to get her—”

“Shake it off, Bernie,” says Ferdinand, remarkably cheery. “We haven’t lost yet, and we’re just getting warmed up. We’ll support you more next time, and make sure you’re more well protected so you can get them for us.”

“Alright, new plan. Huddle up,” says Sylvain. They get up and stand around him. “I noticed something, about dear old Selena and Gaius. During the middle part of the game, when Camilla and Unmasker were ah, chasing Bernie, Thea and I were able to take down those two a few times. Once they died, they didn’t collect themselves and went out pretty impulsively. They didn’t seem to be collecting mana for their special attacks too. Also, they were muttering really loudly. Seemed a little pissed off. Target those two—even if we don’t win the next one, that’s fine. We need to wind those two up so they’ll make more mistakes later in the match.”

Bernie frowns. Maybe Selena was right…maybe Sylvain really was a bit scummy. “If you think that’ll work.”

“It helps that those two really don’t like me, so they’ll be hyper-focused on winning,” he points out.

“It’s a bit despicable, but I trust you,” says Thea. “let’s break some hearts.”

The second game is a sort of escort mission, ‘Fairy Express’. There’s a fairy train that rests in the middle of the stage. If a member of the team rests on the train, it will start moving towards the opponent’s base, along a set of tracks. The map is symmetrical, so each end of the track is deep in the heart of each team’s base; to gain points, a team has to escort the train to the enemy team’s base. If the enemy manages to get on the train, the train will move in the opposite direction. It’s one of Bernie’s favourite modes because she likes sitting on the train. It’s dangerous, and hard to get kills while the train is moving, but she feels a deep satisfaction whenever she gets a very difficult snipe while on the train. Also, since she’s literally sitting on the objective, that means she’s very well-protected by her team.

This time, because she’s well protected, she’s able to get cleaner snipes and is able to use her long-ranged special attack to bully Selena as she comes out of her base multiple times. Camilla struggles a bit without her killer support, and the rest of Doki Doki are able to clean them up.

It’s an astonishingly fast game.

“Fairy Express is our strongest mode after all,” Thea preens.

Selena gives them the stink eye as she throws her headset onto the table.

There’s a roster change in the next game; to Bernie’s dismay, they sub her out for Prokiller, who has a particularly mean look on her face.

Doki Doki groups up again.

“Any ideas, bright spark? That ProKiller looks like they want to take a bite out of you and uh, not in a good way,” Thea mutters to Sylvain.

“They want to take a bite out of Bernie more,” he says. He throws an arm around her and ruffles her hair. “You were amazing!”

“No, I, uh—”

“No need to be modest,” says Ferdinand. “That was what, fourteen kills in one match?”

“If I know Camilla and I do, she’s gonna be cautious of you. Not much else is scarier than a sniper that hits all of their shots. And that’s why we’re using you as bait in the next game.”

Now, this wouldn’t work if the next game mode wasn’t Capture the Maypole, a Capture the Flag variant. The Maypole in question is a giant magical canon that sides in the middle of the map. To win, a team must carry the maypole all the way to the podium deep in the enemy base. The maypole can shoot out magic to damage the enemy, but they’re slow. They move fast when they’re not shooting, but everyone walks slower when the ground isn’t covered in their team's magic, so the Maypole-carrier needs someone to escort them by covering the ground with magic.

Sylvain instructs Ferdie to put on speed-enhancing gear and then they set up the trap.

They play the game normally in the beginning, clearly defending Bernie from the other team so she can get kills. She lures the sirens closer to Doki Doki’s base, making them think they’ve cornered her. Sylvain stays to help defend her, but unbeknownst to the Sirens, Ferdie and his speed-enhancing gear sneakily picks up the Maypole and makes a run for it as Thea guides the way. As the Sirens are in the worst position to defend their base, the Heartbreakers win.

Their fourth match is a deathmatch. Each kill equals a point. The first team to thirty points wins. At this stage, the Gotham Titty sirens aren’t nearly as collected as they were at the beginning. They’re scattered, and aren’t moving as a team; they keep rushing out as they respawn, not bothering to wait for each other.

To her surprise, they _still_ seem a little frightened of her. Camilla has moved to a higher-range weapon to counter her, but Bernie’s aim is sharper. Bernie intimidates them and keeps their attention on her. All sniper wands have a laser which gives away where the sniper is aiming—so she uses that and their awareness of her to herd them to where her teammates are lurking.

It’s the opposite of the third game; the Gotham Titty Sirens aren’t too aggressive, they’re too cautious and passive, which allows her team to collect their heads one by one.

Once Sylvain gets their 30th kill, Ferdinand stands up and whoops in exuberance.

They’ve won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotham Titty Sirens:  
> Queen Rose (Camilla, Fates)  
> ProKiller (Beruka, Fates)  
> Dreamer (Selena, Fateswakening)  
> Unmasker (Charlotte, Fates)  
> Sweet Tooth (Gauis, Awakening)
> 
> See their gamer profiles [here](https://twitter.com/hekxate/status/1358693919370874883).  
> Most in-game names for more cameo-style characters are based on their personal abilities or ending titles!
> 
> Also! If no one has noticed, I'm ripping most of these game mechanics from Splatoon 2. If you think this sounds fun to play, then try out Splatoon 2! HMU twitter, I'm always up for games.


	3. Chapter 3

[Posted 1 hour ago]

 **@Mystical Malice** We swear by the rich crimson of our blood we’ll put on an extraordinary exhibition for our second White Clouds match! Spectate here: twitch.com/cof3league

* * *

“So,” says Thea, with her marker circling the tournament bracket almost like a shark in the ocean, “Do we have intel on these uh, Mystical Malice people?”

“That’s an interesting name,” says Bernie. Most teams go for more badass or cute names and weren’t much for whimsy. Their own team had settled on Doki Doki Heartbreakers, the perfect mix of humour, cultural references and, to Thea and Sylvain’s insistence, hotness.

Ferdinand shrugs. “Regrettably, I don’t know much about them. Most of their members played Crest of Flames 1 and 2, and moved to more casual tournaments after Crest of Flames 3 came out.”

They look towards Sylvain. He stares back but then breaks after a few seconds. “Alright, I'm actually well-acquainted with them”.

Bernie grins. “Wow, you really do know everyone, huh?”

“Sort of, yes.”

Thea looks twitchy in her seat like she’s five seconds away from shaking down Sylvain for answers. Deep, deep, deep down, Bernie’s inner gossip mouse feels the same way. Sylvain must speak.

Thea stabs Mystic Malice’s name with her pen on the sheet. “Spill. What do we have to look out for?”

“First, the members are Leo, Odin, Niles and Elise. Leo’s the captain. We play against each other regularly on the Crest of Flames Chess discord. He wins, sometimes. He’s got an amazing mind for strategy.”

“Gods,” says Thea. “You’re such a _nerd._ ”

Personally, Bernie’s not sure that Thea has any legs to stand on: she just flew into another city for a gaming convention and is currently _taking notes_ on their opponents.

Sylvain snorts, presumably sharing the same thoughts. “Let’s get this out of the way: I hooked up with Niles, once. At a Crest of Flames 2 LAN when we were both starting out. We’re on good terms.”

Bernie looks over to the tall blonde of Mystic Malice who seems to be... monologuing to a banana. “Did you uh, hook up with him too?”

He might be a weirdo, but he was still handsome and fit.

“Oh, Odin? He’s also from the chess club. He won last year’s championship.”

They watch as Odin finishes monologuing, consumes the banana, and then jumps into the arms of somewhat intimidating Niles. Maybe all strategy geniuses _were_ weirdos; Sylvain and Hubert were already quite a sample.

Thea shakes her head. “I can’t get over the fact that there’s a _Crest of Flames Chess Discord_. How did it get started?”

Sylvain freezes. “We don’t talk about that.”

Ooookay. Moving on.

Bernie looks at the only girl on Mystic Malice. She seems cheery and cute; much more than Bernie herself. She points at her. “Is that Elise? Do you also know her from the chess club?”

Sylvain shakes his head. “Elise is part of the Crest of Flames Horse Girl server.”

Thea’s writing pauses. “The. The what?”

Sylvain shrugs again as if all of these weird hobby shoot-offs from the League were actually totally normal. “It’s a side hustle.”

Bernie’s not sure that Sylvain knows what side hustle means. Or maybe he does, but he’s misusing it purposely to get to them. He’s been playing too much chess. Too many mind games.

Ferdinand peers at Elise. “Oh, she’s our Elise? She's cool.”

Thea’s head snaps to Ferdie, who is currently munching on carrot sticks. It’s one of his pre-match rituals. “You're also a part of that Horse Girl server?”

Ferdinand looks her dead in the eye. “I’m the server owner.”

* * *

[Posted 12 hours ago]

 **@sothis-bot** Games can be overwhelming and frustrating. Remember that you're supposed to have fun while playing. If you're not having a good time, take a break!

* * *

When the time of the match comes, they settle in without too many nerves. The absence of Mr Hedgehog eats at Bernie a little, but Sylvain’s necklace grounds her for now.

It also helps that Mystic Malice was not, in fact, a malicious team. They joke around with them a bit before the match; Odin offers her a banana, which she declines. Niles’ flirting slides off her like oil, but Thea manages to get him to buzz off. The other members are very pleasant.

Mystical Malice did not seem nervous at all. Usually, that’d strike her as odd. But Sylvain had explained everything to his team: their opponents simply did not give a fuck anymore.

After years in the Crest of Flames 2 league, Leo and Elie’s team with their older siblings, Camilla and their retired brother Xander disbanded. Niles and Odin split from their old teams too and joined Leo and Elise. For a while, they did well. They were in Division 1 in the first season of Crest of Flames 3, but they eventually withdrew from competitive play and only played in tournaments for fun.

They had burnt out. According to Sylvain, Odin eventually convinced his team to come back to the league, but with a challenge: they were all using weapons that they weren’t familiar with.

Personally, Bernie thinks it sounds like hell. But she’s not the one who has been playing in the competitive community for more than five years. Variety is the spice of life, or so they say. She can’t relate; she likes her schedule neat and orderly and constant. Prying her long wand out of her hands would make her cry (a lot of things make her cry, but she digresses).

“They’re still very good,” Sylvain had reminded them in the last minute of their huddle up. “Their tactics are out-of-the-box, and their teamwork is mint. It’s only their technical skills which are lacking.”

There are two important parts of playing a specific role: your ability to hit targets and your positioning. It’s a little difficult to learn how to hit targets with different weapons, but the real challenge lay in positioning yourself with each weapon. That required more experience playing on different maps and a good set of instincts. Worse, the more roles you tried to learn, the harder it was to play those roles. Your old habits are ingrained, after all.

Their role-swap shows in their gameplay: their backline, who should have been the most cautious of the lot, is the most aggressive. They get all up in Sylvain and Thea’s face; although their weapon is powerful and they can get kills, they’re also slow, and their vulnerable positioning means that Ferdie and Bernie don’t have much trouble finishing them off.

The rest of the team also plays oddly; their slayer player, who was the one who should’ve been at the frontlines, hangs back and just throws their sub-weapon, a glitter bomb, at Bernie and her team. On her third glitter-related death, Bernie is tempted to go over to Mystic Malice’s table and beg them to stop.

Luckily, although the bombs were annoying and periodically lethal, the shy slayer can’t truly support their team that way, which meant Bernie’s team manages to push into their opponent’s territory without much challenge.

The other two players, both midlines, manage to play quite competently and do manage to support their team. But while 2/4 is indeed a passing mark, it’s not a great score, and Mystical Malice struggles to score big against them.

But they don’t seem to _care_. They still whoop and cheer whenever they make a good play and make Doki Doki hiss in frustration.

And well. It’s hard to feel bitter about losing points and such when your opponents are genuinely having fun and don’t seem to care if they’re at a disadvantage. It’s not like they’re not taking it seriously, either—they move quickly and consolidate themselves awfully fast. Bernie shudders: if they had bought their main weapons, this would be a very difficult match.

Doki Doki manages to win their four required matches—there were a few close games, but none that made Bernie truly worried.

Mystical Malice doesn’t look put out at all and come to congratulate them on their win in good humour.

Elise lingers even after they pack up their gear, with a grin on her face and a perk in her step. “You were amazing!” she cries.

Bernie points at herself in confusion. “You’re ah, talking to me?”

Elise sidles up to her and nods. “Who else, silly?”

“Oh, uh. Thanks.”

“I’m not gonna bite, you know. We should exchange pointers sometimes. I used to be a really good backline. You uh, probably couldn’t tell though, with how I played just then.”

Bernie’s not sure if she’d call Elise’s gameplay _bad_. She was the frontline player with the glitter bombs which almost made Bernie tear her hair out. If this wasn’t a high-div leaning tournament, Elise would’ve demolished her opponents.

“I, uh, wouldn’t mind exchanging pointers,” says Bernie. “I had a lot of fun playing against your team. Something new.”

Elise blinks slowly in surprise. That grin appears again. “You know, everyone says you’re really shy, but you’re sweet. Here, give me your phone and I'll send you a request on Discord. It’s been soooo long since I’ve had a sniper 1v1. Being a slayer is cool and all, but I miss my baby.”

Bernie’s still caught on that _everyone says_. Do people talk about her??

She nods mechanically and hands Elise her phone. “I’ll uh, look forward to it.”

“It’s so odd that we have mutual friends but have never talked,” says Elise.

“Well, I’m very new. I didn’t even know that my teammates knew you,” explains Bernie.

Elise hands her back her phone. She pouts petulantly. “Still. I def wanna with you more. How are you finding the LAN? It’s exciting, right?”

Existing is not Bernie’s first choice of description. She’d go for terrifying and crowded but could settle for nerve-wracking. “It’s alright. It’s nice to see my friends in person.”

“As long as you’re having fun,” Elise says.

“I might be,” Bernie admits.

Elisa’s smile drops for a second. “I don’t want to bring down the mood. But if you’re having fun, you’ll play better and for longer. You’re so talented, I’d hate to see you stop. I’ll be rooting for you. You _gotta_ win now, otherwise, it’ll be so embarrassing that we lost against you.”

“It’s a double-elimination bracket,” says Bernie. “You still have another chance.”

“You know I’m kidding, right? We don’t actually expect to win. We’re just here to mess around. Like, 80% of these teams are out of our league, but Camilla was flying in, so we had to come.”

Bernie worries her bottom lip. “But you’re having fun?”

“Of course I am.” Elise’s voice is warm. “That's why I want you to have fun too.”

* * *

[Posted 3 hours ago]

 **@mercury** {For Adoption} One angry gremlin catboy slayer, toilet trained, vaccinated. Bad temper, but just needs a loving home.

 **@sly+vain** Hello I am interested 👀

 **@nineknives** Fuck off.

* * *

One of Bernie’s goals for the year was to drink more water. Drinking water apparently helps clear your skin. Makes you less grouchy. Improves your digestion. Bernie needs all the help she can get.

Unfortunately, drinking a lot of water had the unfortunate side effect of—you guessed it—making you go to the bathroom a lot.

This is inconvenient, but not a real problem. Not usually. But when Bernie makes her way back from the bathroom, she almost walks into her worst nightmare.

No, no, it’s not Hubert.

It’s Knives.

She stops in her tracks and wonders if he’ll see her if she sprints back into the room. She’s not sure _why_ she’s so scared of him but his perpetual grouchy face and intimidating body language really isn’t helping. Gah, what if it’s still upset that she ran into him the other day??

She tries to silently maneuver around but he pins her down with his glare like a pin in a butterfly.

“He-hello,” she says.

“Uh, hi,” he says. Even his _voice_ is rough and grouchy. He sounds sceptical, like he’s not sure she even exists. Look, if Bernie could be a cryptid, she would! But she’s not.

“I’m just, gonna, go—”

“Wait,” he says. He was probably an army commander in another life.

She stands still. Too still, probably. She feels stiff.

“You played well today,” he says, gruffly. Bernie’s not sure if Knives has ever handed out a genuinely-sounding compliment.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” she says. Because what else can she say??

“You’re good, but not at good as Sylvain. He’s still the best backline in the league. Don't tell him I said that. He won't ever shut about it.”

Wow. What a backhanded compliment. It’s almost enough to make her angry.

Fear’s stronger than anger though. “S-sorry of pinching him from your team. I didn’t—”

Knives scowls. “Forget it. It’s impossible to make him do anything that he doesn’t want to do. It’s not like I care.”

Bernie’s not sure she believes that, but she’s not gonna pick fights with Mr Sword Gremlin.

“Look, when you ran into me earlier today—”

“I’m s-sorry about that,” she stammers.

His brow furrows further and his scowl deepens. “Stop apologising.”

“Okay. I’ll stop!”

“Don’t run away again, I’m just trying to talk to you,” he says, looking her up and down.

But then his eyes widen, and for the first time in this conversation, he doesn’t look grumpy. Just shocked. “What’s that on your neck?”

Her hands fly up to Sylvain’s pendant. “It’s, it’s just a lucky charm.”

Knives’ shoulders look tense and slightly raised, like the hackles of a cat. His voice comes out flat. “Where did you get it.”

“Sylvain—”

“He gave it to you?” Knives asks, voice strangled.

“No, it’s so important to him, he’s just lending it to me. For luck. I, I got nervous. That’s all.”

“For luck,” Knives repeats, almost numbly.

Seeing that her captor was distracted, Bernie decides to make a run for it. “It was nice! Really nice to talk to you. Uh, bye.”

She sprints back into the room, ignoring Knive’s aggravated shouts at her to stay put.

* * *

[Posted 10 minutes ago]

 **@daddydragon** The CoF league has booked out Abby’s Malay for dinner tonight at 7 PM. Seats are first come first served. We hope to see you there!

* * *

It’s customary for Crest of Flames players to have dinner together on the first night of the White Clouds LAN. It’s so customary that they’ve booked out an entire restaurant for the night.

Bernie hadn’t really wanted to come, but her team were keen, and she didn’t want to be alone in a strange city, nor did she want to force them to change their fans.

Doki Doki is a little late to the dinner: they spent a bit of time looking around the rooms the LAN was hosted in and asking lost and found about Mr Hedgehog. To Bernie’s disappointment, they had no luck.

“We’ll be able to search more places tomorrow,” assures Sylvain. “It’ll be easier to see in daylight too.”

“Yeah,” says Bernie, trying very hard to sulk.

Ferdinand nudges her shoulder. “We’ll find him, champ.”

Once they call off the search, they make their way to the restaurant as quickly as they can. Even then, it’s a bit too late to get good seats. The Starry Midknights are already sitting at a full table. Bernie doesn’t recognise the other team on that table, but they seem friendly.

Sylvain’s smile drops when he sees that.

“Are there any open tables?” asks Bernie.

Thea’s mouth thins out. “Just one.”

Bernie follows her line of sight to one of the large tables in the corner. There’s a team of five there. The Black Eagles Taskforce.

“We can eat somewhere else,” offers Sylvain, ever the diplomat.

Ferdinand’s smiling. It looks pasted on. “No, no. Is there a reason we shouldn’t sit near them?”

Bernie could swear that the temperature has dropped at least 5 degrees.

He confidently walks towards the table and asks, “Are these seats taken?”

There’s more than a few eyes on him. People love drama. Bernie, Thea and Sylvain hurry over to him to provide support.

The pretty light-haired girl at the table smiles pleasantly. “You’re more than welcome to sit with us, Ferdinand. You and your team.”

Thea lets out a high, nervous laugh. “Thank you.”

They quickly sit down. Bernie is sandwiched near a kind-looking, mauve-haired girl and a jock with sky-blue hair. She briefly wonders if crazy hair colours is a membership requirement for the Black Eagles in the same way titty windows was for the Gotham Titty Sirens.

It doesn't matter where she sits though; the table is round, so everyone can see and hear everyone. It’s great for conversation with friends, but not so great for avoiding conversation with your teammate’s exes.

Hubert looks at Bernie with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. Not good. “Well well well look who we have here. What a coincidence.”

Thea jumps straight to her defence. “Has anyone told you that you kinda look and sound like Cruella de Vil?”

Hubert chuckles and raises an eyebrow, only further proving her point. “No, but thank you.”

Ferdinand snort. “As _if_ he has the good taste to be a dog person. He likes cats.”

Maybe she should try to keep the peace. “I like cats too,” she offers.

Ferdinand looks at her, aghast, hands-on his heart in a mock-theatrical manner. “Is this what betrayal feels like?”

Thea’s got her head in her hands. She mumbles, “I’m not sure you and I watched the same movie, Ferdie.”

At Ferdinand’s confused look, Hubert slides in and reminds him, “I suppose you could say Cruella likes dogs if that means she wants to skin them.”

Ferdinand only looks like he wants to skin _him_. Luckily, the pretty light-haired girl interrupts. She meets Sylvain's eyes from across the table.

Oh goddess, were they going to witness one of Sylvain’s legendary hook-ups in action? He said he was cutting back on them!

“Sylvain, you play chess, don’t you? I heard you’re quite good, but we’ve never had a match.”

“Thanks, Edelgard but uh, I’m not _that_ good. I’m sure you’d crush me.”

“Is everyone really a part of this chess club?” asks Bernie, baffled.

The mauve-haired girl next to her shakes her head. “No, actually. I'm a part of the horse girl club.”

Well. She wasn’t expecting that.

Thea gapes. “What do you even do there?”

The girl explains, “We talk about our horses, share horse pictures, support each other if we have horse-related events, roleplay the saddle club and write horse girl movie fanfics.”

Some of those activities were not like the others.

She’s saved from accidentally voicing that by the appearance of the waiters, who hand them their menus.

Bernie settles on a milky pork chop dish which Thea insists is amazing, while Thea orders a serving of pandan chicken. The girl next to them, who introduces herself as Petra, orders the curry chicken with rice rolls.

“This chain does amazing herbal tea,” announces Ferdinand. “It’s very refreshing. I’ll get a jug for the table. It doesn't cost much more than a single serving.”

“No one wants tea when they can have coffee,” says Hubert. He’s smirking, which is making things infinitely worse.

“What’s wrong with tea?” asks Ferdinand. Bernie’s not sure she’s ever seen him this close to angry.

Hubert shrugs.

“People can like tea and coffee,” sputters Ferdinand. “In fact, some people prefer tea over coffee. You can have tea without coffee. Both can complete a meal! In fact, it’s probably better to have tea than coffee!”

Bernie’s so confused. She looks at Thea who is squeezed in next to her. Thea shakes her head. “I don’t think he’s still talking about...tea and coffee,” she whispers.

Bernie agrees.

Thea clears her throat. “Alright, I know that...beverages are important, but we shouldn’t get so wound up in person. Both are good, yes? But it’s a bit too late for coffee. Let’s just get the tea.”

The confused waiter takes the order and then repeats it for them to confirm.

As they wait for the food, their attention returns to the only civil conversation on the table: Edelgard and Sylvain’s surprisingly tame banter about chess gambits.

The blue-haired guy next to Petra groans. “Oh man, this is so boring. Those guys are nerds. I’m Caspar by the way! It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh, nice to meet you,” Bernie parrots. “I’m Bernie.”

“Thea. Charmed.”

“So how long have you guys been playing?” asks Caspar.

Bernie’s about to answer when the green-haired man next to Casper shuffles around in his sleep; his head is gently positioned on his arms. He lets out a soft snore.

“Oh, um. Is he okay?” asks Bernie.

Caspar blinks. “He's pretending to be asleep.”

Bernie and Thea share a look. “W-hy is he doing that?”

Caspar shrugs, but he doesn’t seem concerned. “He said something about pretending to be asleep so you guys would let your guard down so he’ll listen in on your tactics!”

That seems like a lot of work to collect info.

Petra shakes her head. “I think he is actually asleep; he's drooling. He probably said that so you would stop trying to wake him up.”

“Oh. Do you think he’ll still want to eat? I ordered some noodles for him. But it’ll be a waste if he doesn’t.”

Petra pats him on the shoulder consolingly. “We can take it back to the hotel. We have microwaves.”

“You guys got a room together?” asks Thea.

“Yeah! Our sponsors arranged and paid for it,” he says (shouts). The guy next to him somehow doesn’t wake up.

“It would have been nice to get a room together,” says Thea. “But we booked so late.”

“Your team wasn’t planning on coming?” asks Petra.

Thea shrugs. “Because of a string of freak accidents, this LAN is our only valid seeding event. Our placement in the league depends on this one tournament.”

Petra hums. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

Bernie feels it. It’s not so bad now, but they’re only in the early hours. Tomorrow, their matches will be worse. Are they even going to make it to the finals on Sunday? She doubts they can—but they _have_ to if they want to make it into Division 1.

“Good luck! You seem like nice people,” says Caspar.

Thea laughs and flutters her eyelashes. “Would you go easy on us if we match up then?”

Caspar shakes his head with gusto. “Of course not! I respect you as opponents.”

“That’s good," she says, and then narrows her eyes dangerously. "Because we won’t go easy on you either."

“That’s what I wanna hear!” exclaims Caspar. The man next to him groans and shuffles in his sleep.

Petra looks at him in concern. “Perhaps we should dial it back a bit for Linhardt. We did push him hard today; he deserves a nap.”

“Yeah, you’re right Petra.”

Food comes right after. Bernie’s milky pork chop is amazing; tender, succulent meat in a savoury batter and drenched in a sticky, almost creamy sauce. It’s a bit like orange chicken, but with a drastically different flavour profile. The salad that accompanies it is light and refreshing, and the rice is warm and fragrant. She swaps a few pork nuggets for one of Thea’s little pandan-wrapped fried chicken nuggets. Those are fragrant and almost sweet. Absolutely delicious.

Ferdinand was right about the herbal tea too; it’s a grass herbal tea that’s a bit bitter, a little sweet and very refreshing. It’s the perfect accompaniment to the food.

Hubert stubbornly watches as everyone else sips at the tea, even his own captain, Edelgard, without making any move to have any himself.

“Hmph, I knew you’d be too chicken to try the tea,” says Ferdinand. Bernie watches Sylvain facepalm himself from across the table. Don’t worry buddy, she feels it too.

Hubert’s smile is as sharp as a knife. It makes her want to retract into her shell. He scoffs. “I’ll try it if you sample some of my seafood laksa.”

Bernie looks at Hubert’s bowl. It’s red. It’s so, so, so red. Ferdinand can’t even eat spicy chicken wings from KFC.

“Fine,” Ferdinand seethes.

They wave down a waiter to get another small bowl. Sylvain, as a neutral party, scoops out some of the laksa into a bowl, and then pours out an equal amount of herbal tea into one of the empty cups.

Needless to say, the night ends in tears, and some non-zero amount of gagging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm moving to a fortnightly schedule. Except updates on Sunday or Monday. I do hope to build my stockpile back up to go weekly, but we'll see.
> 
> Mystical Malic (yes, Odin named the team):  
> \- Leo  
> \- Niles  
> \- Odin  
> \- Elise
> 
> See their profiles [here](https://twitter.com/hekxate/status/1364044632707854336).  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> Art by the wonderful [Jen (hekxate)](https://twitter.com/hekxate).  
> Check out the team profiles [here](https://twitter.com/hekxate/status/1354519549476016130).  
> [Esports Glossary](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1aQTyya0RblXdbWEPyakb36hUUZrDO4qnOMXN7RmYugM/edit?usp=sharing)
> 
> [ This fic is retweetable!](https://twitter.com/Feroxai_/status/1354666009483853826)
> 
> Updates on Sundays!!


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